You Won't See Me Cry
by Xazz
Summary: It's the night before they leave for Rome, Lucy should be sleeping.


Currently I'm taking fic requests over on my blog (myantiquehabibi over on Tumblr). This is one of them.

Oops I made Warren a sympathetic character!

* * *

She should have been sleeping. She should have been sleeping and getting ready for tomorrow. The others were all asleep, Desmond practically curled up at the statue of Altair's feet like it was a totem that could ward away his bad dreams, and Shaun and Rebecca sleeping on one side of the Sanctuary together, but not _together_. Her own sleeping bag was on the other side of the Sanctuary alone, it was her own choice, Rebecca had initially put everyone's together.

Desmond had lasted a week, then they'd found him curled up against the side of Altair's statue, shivering in the cold without his sleeping bag or a blanket or his sweatshirt. She'd only lasted a little longer then that before messages from William started to come in. He was urging her to push Desmond harder, the Templars were closing in, they _had_ to get to the artifact first. They couldn't be beaten again. She slept too fitfully at night to keep bothering Shaun and Rebecca and had dragged her sleeping bag to the other side of the room.

Lucy was at her computer, tapping her fingers on the table. Most of the Sanctuary had been packed up. The Animus was in the truck, as were most of the tables and gear. But there was still one generator running, and she'd asked Rebecca to pack up her computer in the morning.

There were two emails open on her screen. One was from Warren. The other was from William.

'Lucy,

We're still waiting to hear from you. I hope you continue to make the correct decisions. Do us proud.'

That was from Warren. She could barely look at it. Even if she failed she knew Warren was proud of her. She was the only one who could really keep up with him, the only one who _understood_, who was so fascinated by his area of expertise. The rest of the scientific community openly mocked him, laughed at him, and he didn't have a single paper published, despite his expertise, his actual _legitimate_ findings.

She'd found him, one day, in his office, after one of his papers had been rejected by a science magazine in Germany, his head in his hands. He did important work. More he _knew_ he did important work. People counted on him. He was on the cutting edge of neural technology. Outside of Abstergo he was a crack pot. A fool. Not even worth anyone's time. She'd seem him destroyed that day, his paper had been rejected, and the notes on it mocking.

She'd just quietly picked the letter up and tore it up. "They don't understand," she'd said and he'd looked at her, and he looked his age. He was pushing mid fifties now, and he'd been a man of science his entire life. He had no recognition. "You do things they wish they could," and she'd thrown the torn paper into the waste bin.

Warren had smiled, it was always so hard to get him to do that. He was under a lot of pressure, and that was beyond the fact that he was a very serious man to begin with. "Yes, my dear, I'm afraid you may be right. Which is exactly _why_ our work is so important," he'd said firmly.

"Then we should get to work."

Lucy smiled to herself, looking through her computer. Her other email was… more painful, for other reasons.

'Stillman,

Why was it that Shaun was the one who alerted us to the fact that you have come up with the location of the artifact? As team leader it is expected that you keep us informed of your mission objective. I expect a full debrief of your mission when I see you in Rome-'

There was more. William was long winded and more then a little cruel. It basically went on to say that he wasn't sure if Lucy was cut out for this and that most likely, in the future, Desmond would be taken out of her cell. If it came to that. Meaning that if Desmond was capable of still _functioning_ when this was all over he'd be transferred. She'd probably be transferred to. Put someplace where she could be watched by someone who wouldn't hesitate to kill her if she proved traitorous.

Funny how the 'good guys' were more likely to kill her then the 'bad guys'.

She didn't know who was who anymore actually.

It had seemed so easy years ago, before this had all started. She'd been so full of ideals and hope. But the years had dragged on and it got harder and harder to hold onto hope. She didn't have any hope anymore. It was tucked away in a tiny part of her heart that she didn't examine too closely anymore, because with hope there was love, and she couldn't afford either of those. Not anymore. She was a traitor to two Orders. She had betrayed the Assassins, and she would betray the Templars too, she _had_ betrayed the Templars. She was keeping things from them like she was keeping things from the Assassins.

Lucy cast her eye to the statue of Altair and then down. Desmond was still sleeping. He was her hope. That she could be redeemed, that someone wanted her for something else then to _use her_. She didn't remember what that felt like. To not be used. It made her feel dirty, stained, and unclean. She'd never be clean again. There was _so much_ red in her ledger, and it'd never go away.

With a quiet sigh she leaned back in her chair and stared at her computer. She'd gotten both today, Warren's just after breakfast, because he knew whatever was going on she'd need time to respond, William's just before they were going to go to bed, because he didn't care and needed a response as soon as humanly possible and didn't care if it was inconvenient for anyone. She needed to answer them.

She started when suddenly a figure loomed in front of her, behind her computer. She looked up and her eyes took a second to adjust, her night vision wrecked from staring at her bright computer. "Desmond?" she said, sounding surprised. "What are you doing up?"

"I would ask you the same thing," Desmond said, rubbing his eyes. "It's a long drive tomorrow."

"Yeah," she said and bit the tip of her tongue, feeling foolish. "Couldn't sleep."

"Nervous?" he asked, resting his hands on either side of her computer screen. His face was illuminated from the screen and it made her sad to see him like this. When she'd first met him he was dark skinned, face full, and body well toned from daily activity. Now he was paler, his cheeks slightly sunken, eyes sunk deep in their sockets, and looked like he was carrying around too much weight in places he didn't want to have, he looked sick. Shaun teased him about being fat and she wondered how often Desmond had to hold his fist back from just not punching Shaun in the face. He didn't ask for this, _they'd_ done this to him. It was always especially apparent when he walked like he didn't understand why there suddenly so much more mass to him then he was used to, or when he came back at night winded, sweating, and dark faced with his own anger about being so out of shape. So weak. She wished she could take it all away and put him back the way he had been.

"A bit," she said, "Excited too, maybe," she fingered her mouse, to give her hands something to do. "We've all worked hard for this."

"Yeah," he said lowly.

"You should go back to sleep Desmond. You know where it is, you'll have to lead us to the artifact," she said with her best impression of a smile.

"I will, but you have to go to bed too," he said.

She gave him a patient look, "I need to take care of something first," she glanced at the computer screen where William's email was overlapping Warren's.

He leaned over her screen to look at it upside down. "Emails? At this hour?" he asked and looked at her with an arched brow. Funny, she didn't think he could do that when he first met her.

"Yeah, it's for the Order. They're… going to meet us at Rome."

He frowned deeply, troubled by that, "Oh. Why haven't they been here the entire time?" and she could hear the bitterness in his voice. That was okay though. She was bitter about that too. They wanted _everything_ from you, but weren't willing to give up even a little in return.

"Too many of us in one place draws suspicion," she said, knowing she had to look loyal.

"Ah," he nodded slowly. "Well, you should finish them up, go to sleep," and his index finger traced the top of her hand. "Long day tomorrow."

She smiled, "I will," she said. He gave her a little smile but didn't move. "You going to go?" she asked.

"Once you're done. I want to make sure you do."

She gave a soft, breathe-like, laugh. "Desmond, you don't have-

"Someone has to watch your back," he said. "And I think it's fair if you make sure I get some sleep, I should make sure you do too," he squeezed her fingers lightly.

She smiled helplessly, "Okay. Let me finish this, real quick," and she regretfully pulled her hand from his.

She replied to William's first. 'I'm sorry I haven't been on top of things as you would like me to be Mentor. I'm currently trying to keep your son alive and sane enough to make sure he lives through this, sorry that this conflicts with your current agenda. I'll be sure to tell Shaun that next time he gives you no heads up until I'm able to properly respond to you.' He'd also asked them for the ETA tomorrow. She gave him an hour later then they expected to arrive. She sent the message without signing it and felt good about it. She grinned at Desmond who smiled back at her, his tired eyes bright.

"One more," she apologized and brought up Warren's. She hesitated, not knowing really what she was going to say to him. He'd done so much for her. He knew what she was, knew _what_ she was, and still embraced her, even in the beginning. He'd never hidden anything from her, because he needed her, and she needed him. 'Warren,

I'm sorry. I'm about to let you down, I promised you I never would. Forgive me for what I have to do but I can't let you hurt him anymore.

Lucy'

Then she turned off her computer once that email had been sent. "Okay, all done," she said, smiling brightly at Desmond, feeling better.

"Great," and she stood up. "You going to be warm enough?" he asked, sort of awkward. It was sweet. It was cool out though especially underground where the temperature dropped even more at night and some mornings she woke up shivering.

She bit her lips, fighting a smile, "Why? You offering to be my space heater?" she teased him.

"Maybe," he said with a shrug.

She chuckled at him and shoved him back towards the statue, "Go to bed Desmond," she said and in the dark she couldn't see his eyes very well as he went to his sleeping bag. Lucy went to her own and was about to take off her shoes and go to sleep when she looked over to the statue where Desmond was laying in his own bag. She bit her lower lip and then grabbed her sleeping bag by the corner and dragged it over to him. She would deal with tomorrow tomorrow.

-fin-


End file.
